


Saint Mark's Eve

by bpdcerberus



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: St. Marks Eve, also implied depression/suicidal thoughts, also implied self harm, contains implied suicide attempts, headcanons, theyre past tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpdcerberus/pseuds/bpdcerberus
Summary: Maura walked forwards, hopping off the wall. She stopped the boy right before he entered the church. “What’s your name?” Her voice was soft. This boy was far too young to die.“Ronan Lynch.”





	1. Prologue

April 24th, 2011

St. Mark’s Eve was not usually this cold. Maura and Blue sat side-by-side on the short stone wall of the churchyard. 

Marua sat quietly with her daughter until she saw the first face.

“What’s your name?” Maura asked the faceless spirit. A ghostly whisper met her ears and she shivered. The first one always made her sad. 

“Carter McKinley,” She told Blue, who wrote it down. “Your name, please? Lily-Ahn Baker.”

This continued for a while, like normal. Every year the same, but different people. But just then, Blue seemed to start a little bit, shifting. When Maura glanced at her, her eyes were wide and trained on one spot, near the end of the line. 

“What?” Maura asked, focus back on the spirits. 

“Nothing, I thought I saw someone, but he’s gone.” Blue said, sounding disappointed. Maura knew how much her daughter wished she were psychic.She would offer comfort, but they had work to do. So Maura nodded then focused back on the line of spirits. She could see the last spirit, no more behind him- 

"Oh." Maura sighed sadly, eyebrows drawing in. 

The last spirit was a young boy with a head of curly black hair. He looked about 16 and wore a black tanktop. She thought for a moment she was wrong in what she saw- Maura couldn’t tell if his hair was long or buzzed. She couldn't tell if he had a tattoo on his neck and back or not. She couldn't tell if there were scars on his arms or if it was a trick of the light. She could, however, see a bright bruise on his cheekbone, all shades of green and blue and purple, and a split lip, bleeding even as his spirit was away from him.

Maura walked forwards, hopping off the wall. She stopped the boy right before he entered the church. “What’s your name?” Her voice was soft. This boy was far too young to die.

“Ronan Lynch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN this is headcanons, really. Ronan won't die, promise.


	2. Phone/Cat/Sewing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maura wondered for a moment how many flowers would be on Ronan’s grave, if he ever died. Ronan had a wild, young look to him. Maura thought if anyone were Peter Pan, it was Ronan. Never-ending Ronan.

Speak of the devil and in he will walk.

Earlier that morning, Blue and Maura were discussing the infamous Gansey, boy to die. Now, here he was. Bright orange camaro and his Aglionby friends. 

The front door opened. Maura stood from her chair. In walked a prestigious-looking boy in an Aglionby sweater. Behind him was a boy with tanned skin and freckles whose hair was the color of dirt. The tan boy was wearing a coca cola shirt and had soot on his hands. Maura got a charge of interest, a sparked eye looking around the small Cat/Phone/Sewing Room. From Gansey, she got a vibe of.. Of fear. Maura didn’t think he was afraid of the reading, no.. Not even afraid of something. Afraid for someone.

That someone walked in the door, closing it rather loudly.

There was the boy she saw nearly a year ago. She could see now why his spirit couldn’t decide how to present itself. The boy she saw now was buzzed-headed, tattooed, and in ripped jeans. Most worrying were the dark scars up his arms, to parallel to be anything but self-inflicted. She figured that the curly haired boy he had been was at war with the buzzed haired man he was now.

Gansey and the Coca Cola kid came in and sat down when asked to. Ronan stayed by the door, near Calla, staring her down like a coiled snake ready to strike.

Everything about Ronan screamed danger and magic. Everything about Adam screamed fear and magic. Everything about Gansey screamed love and magic. Blue, however, was a whisper of sensibility and an airhorn of magic. Maura felt like there was another Aglionby boy in the mix, but she couldn’t see him the way she saw others. He was a whisper, not a shout, like the other boys. How quiet he was. The four of them were so loud, and the other unseeable boy was barely there. Maura’s attention was snapped up when Calla sneered something at Ronan.

“A secret killed your father, and you know what it was.” Calla said, her hand on the boy’s tattoo. Maura’s eyes were wide as he smacked her hand away and stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him.

Gansey looked after him, eyes worried and clouded. Then he looked at Calla. “Why would you do that? His father is dead!” 

Niall Lynch.

Ronan Lynch.

It suddenly made sense. Niall Lynch was the man who had been found dead, head beaten in brutally. Ronan was one of that man’s sons. But if Niall was dead, why wasn’t Ronan? Maura hadn’t heard news about the boy, but it wasn’t unusual not to. She didn’t hear of Lily-Ahn Baker’s death until she was walking through the churchyard at St. Agnes last month and saw her grave. It made her smile, however, that the name was almost obscured by the flowers. She had been loved.

Maura wondered for a moment how many flowers would be on Ronan’s grave, if he ever died. Ronan had a wild, young look to him. Maura thought if anyone were Peter Pan, it was Ronan. Never-ending Ronan.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m back!” Ronan called, closing the door behind him.

“Kerah!” Opal ran in from the living room, hugging Ronan’s legs. He patted her head. “Hey, kiddo.” The tiniest little smile was on his thin lips. 

“Thanks for watching her-” Ronan looking in the living room of 300 Fox Way, but it was empty. He blinked, a bit peeved. Had they left Opal alone? 

“Hey, was anyone watching you?” Ronan asked the tiny satyr who was still clinging to his legs. 

“Aunt Maura did but then she went upstairs. She was acting weird.”

Ronan picked up Opal, holding her in his arms as he ascended the creaky old wooden stairs. He looked around when he got to the top, glancing into open bedrooms. He saw the room he knew was Blue’s - cardboard trees and hairclips everywhere - an empty bedroom he figured was Orlas - a bright orange bikini hung on the back of a desk chair - and finally, at the end of the hall was a small study with only one light on.

Ronan knocked on the open door with one hand. “Mrs. Sargent?”

Maura started, looking back at him. “Oh! Ronan. Sorry. Something came to mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Ronan shrugged a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. “It’s okay. I just came up to make sure you were okay. A year of insane paranormal bullsh- I mean.” A glance at his giggling daughter. “Stuff. A year of insane paranormal stuff makes one paranoid.” Ronan sighed. 

Maura nodded. “No, I’m alright, It’s just..” She looked back at the boxes on the desk. In large sharpie, it was label ‘ST. MARKS’ in all caps.

“Can... I show you something?” She asked.

Ronan looked from her to the box. Cautiously, he nodded, setting Opal down and walking with Marua to the box. Maura sifted through all the papers in it for a second, before selecting one.

“Do you know what Saint Mark’s Eve is?” Maura asked, seeming a little on-edge.

Ronan nodded. “Yeah, it’s when the gonna-be-dead walk the ley lines, right?”

“Yes, well..” Marua looked down at the paper, making sure the date was right. “Every year on St. Mark’s Eve, Blue and I go down to an old, abandoned church a ley line runs through and record the names of the will-be dead.” 

“That’s how you knew Gansey would die.” Ronan affirmed, more a statement than a question.

“Precisely. Your father died two years ago now, correct?” Maura looked at the date of the paper again.

With a slightly shuddery breath, Ronan sighed. “Yes. Exactly two years in November.”

Marua nodded. Without a word, she handed him the paper in her hands.

Ronan looked at her before looking down at the lines of words. Each one was a name, he realized.

_Carter McKinley_  
Lily-Ann Baker  
Enid Smith  
Victoria Roberts  
Billy ?  
Esther Rhodes  
Robert Finnigan  
Mary ? 

Ronan couldn't understand why Maura was showing him this until he got to the very bottom of the list.

_Niall Lynch_

Ronan put a hand to his mouth. Then he kept reading. After his father’s name, there was only one more name.

_Ronan Lynch_

Ronan was silent. For a moment he just looked. Maura thought he looked like he might break, or crumble, or fall, or whatever stone boys did when they didn’t need to be stone anymore.

“I know that there was an incident. Sometime after your father died.” Maura said, voice motherly and compassionate. Ronan didn’t look up at her.

“One that involved you being rushed to the hospital.” She said. “Nearly dying.”

Ronan cleared his throat. His words sounded teary, but he was still looking down. “T-That was a misunderstanding, I-”

Maura put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Ronan.” She said, voice soft. “The reason I showed this to you..” Maura took a large sum of air into her lungs and let it out slow.

“I don’t want you to throw your life away. You’re here for a reason.” Maura smiled at the young man, feeling a bit of swell in emotion in her chest. “You’re meant to be here.”

Ronan was silent for a long moment, looking at the paper. He wiped a silent tear off his cheek with the heel of his hand, sniffling a little. Maura was only mildly surprised when Ronan hugged her. She could feel his shoulders trembling, silent sobs. “It’s okay,” She said, quiet and comforting. 

“You’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THATS IT. my suicidal ronan headcanon. my hc is that it was an accident is the only lie hes ever told.


End file.
